


Heaven's Intruder

by lumesar



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Freeform, Gen, Mentions of Death, Original Character(s), mentions of characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26201995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumesar/pseuds/lumesar
Summary: Charlotte thoughts as she's in the Silver City.
Relationships: Dan Espinoza/Original Charlotte Richards
Kudos: 21





	Heaven's Intruder

**Author's Note:**

> I've kept wondering how Charlotte could have reacted at being on Heaven after being in Hell, after having her life interrupted and I wanted to give her peace of mind, but I thought it would not come exactly easy to her. So this was the result. (I also have a few ideas of fanfiction involving the silver city, and au's... but that's a whole other deal which I don't know if I'll ever end up writing, or if anyone would want to read, but I wanted to dip my toes in the water) I hope you like it and sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> (this interpretation of archangel raphael is an OC I've had for a long time [because I have oc's for almost every angel out there] and it's the only character that technically belongs to me, so just the heads up)

As far as Charlotte could comprehend, she was the only soul in the Silver City with the undeniable, unshakeable feeling of guilt compressing her chest. She was a glitch in the simulation, brought over not fully by her actions, but on the arms of an angel. Amenadiel.  
She felt joyful to be there, as much as she felt like a fraud.  
She wasn’t supposed to be there. She had helped the wicked and she felt the stains of blood on her own hands as if she was one of them.  
She had lied through her teeth, through smiles, on the court. She had lied to almost every single person she knew at some point.  
And although she was trying to make amends, to correct things, everything to avoid Hell… she didn’t felt like she had gotten there, yet.  
But she was on Heaven.  
So that must’ve counted for something.  
Charlotte felt like she was the only human soul in the skies to hide a secret. She felt like at any moment someone would realize the mistake and throw her out of the gates. She waited for it to happen, every day. She walked through heaven with a heavy heart, not knowing what exactly moved her.  
On earth, her drive had been greed. Had been the satisfaction of getting away with things, of finding loopholes in the laws of men. Until it wasn’t, anymore. Until nightmares where her family was taken away from her.  
Until Dan.  
She was in heaven and there should not be anything she wanted, but she missed him. If Charlotte had been awful for most of her life with a few good deeds, Dan was the direct parallel to that. They were the other side of each other’s coin.  
She missed him, and when the ache on her chest screamed louder than the guilt, she dared to pray. Pray that he would forgive himself and end up here, much much later.  
Charlotte had never been religious, however, so she doesn’t know if her version of prayer -- whispers between her lips as she walks through the Silver City -- will serve him anything.  
The Silver City was an excellent distraction to her burdened self. While alive, no one had bothered to explain to her this. Lucifer, Amenadiel, they all had talked so much, but they never dared to describe that place.  
Being there herself, she understood why. There wasn’t how to compress the city on a postcard, how to explain it through an articulate speech. The best way to describe it, she thought, would be an amalgamation of historical periods mushed on itself with a twist of what could simply be denominated as divine. It was everything from history books and beyond, of past present and future of the Earth, but perfected. With no injustice, with no bloodshed. There were walls that did not need to crumble before sieges, there was no human hierarchy to invite prejudice. It was a utopia of every second of humanity blended in something that, somehow, made sense, at the same time as it was unlogical.  
Her attempts to understand the Silver City helped to distract her from the constant pain of all her wrongdoings. She walked through castle halls to see them shifting into movie theaters, only to end up in libraries where every second of everything was registered, somehow.  
She sat among men and women which she could not claim to be superior from: heaven did not care for how many degrees you had. In fact, her insides trembled around them.  
She sat around guiltless folk and never felt more in contrast anywhere else.  
She sat across people that had been able to forgive themselves. That had never tasted the ochre smoke of Hell.  
She sat across angels that had never even looked at sin in the first place.  
Liar, her brain said to her, liar, liar liar.  
But she didn’t felt like she would be able to tell the truth.  
She would carry this weight alone if it meant to carry it in the Silver City.  
Distraction came in many ways. Came by daydreaming of Dan. Of hoping that he was well, that he had coped well with her absence. Was thinking of her children and wishing the same for them. Was hoping that everyone that she had ever helped was rotting in hell.  
It also came in the search of information. She found herself reading, looking for answers. Had a soul ever been brought to heaven in the way she was before? Was there anyone that felt disconnected with the milk and honey?  
She could not allow herself to ask those questions out loud, for fear of being caught.  
But she could ask encyclopedias and do her research. She was a lawyer. She knew how to read through books.  
The library was starting to become as close to her as her chambers in the Silver City. She would walk around halls for so long that time blurred around her, that the walls started to doubt what she wanted to see, what she needed them to be around them.  
Until it finally happened, and Charlotte saw herself in front of Her book.  
The book of her life.  
She reached for it, even if she knew it would hurt to read all her mistakes in fine print.  
But she never grabbed it.  
A cough happened behind her.  
“No one really comes across these halls.” Is what the voice behind her says. Charlotte turns around to see a face she does not recognize.  
The stranger isn’t human, that’s the first thing she realizes. He has long, huge wings, and they shimmer in a sandlike shade that looks too similar too gold, and his eyes carry a similar intonation of hazel. His outfit looked like the one of a knight, but the armor was far from clunky and disjointed, fitting him comfortably. Her eyes did not miss the long cornucopia shaped horn that hung loosely from his waist, not the flask right at its side, and not even the guarded sword on the other side.  
“I… I don’t know how I got here. I’m sorry.” She felt like she had to say it. “I’ll go right away.” How was she supposed to get out? Should she bow to him? He seemed like someone she should bow to.  
He steps forward, raising a hand of the air.  
“I’m not here to disturb you. Charlotte?” He seemed to verify. Her feet seemed heavy against the floor when she nodded. Was it now? Was he, that would see through her façade, and throw her into the abyss? “I’m Archangel Raphael.”  
“It’s… a pleasure to know you.” She says, and it isn’t a lie. Every second she could steal there was indeed a pleasure compared to what waited for her in hell, and she was intending to savor every and each one of them.  
He stops right at her side and starts to admire the shelves she had been previously looking at. Charlotte turns around to do the same, not daring to leave before the imposing presence.  
It takes a while before he speaks again.  
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but I thought it would be best if I waited for you to adjust to the scenario.” He says, and the words feel heavy in the air. She looks at him by the corner of her eye.  
“Thank you.” She musters. “What… did you want to speak to me?”  
He crosses his arms, then unfolds it, the armor not making any screeching sound at the contact against itself as she would previously expect.  
“I…” He turns his head to look at her. “I was very close to our mom when she still lived here. And when I heard that she was on earth, for that minimum slice of time, it pained me that I could not visit her.”  
Oh, so that’s what that’s about, she realizes.  
“I… I don’t really remember anything from that time.” She admits. A voice inside her mind screeches that she should lie, that she should try to please this Archangel with fake pieces of information, just to she could have a chance to not be expelled from the Silver City. But he was close to her, and she had no idea where to start pretending that she was, too. So she opts for the truth and hopes to not regret it.  
“It’s fine. I just… had to see you, for myself.” He shifts the weight on his feet as if he wanted to speak more, and Charlotte finally sees something that she’s useful. She’s good at making people talk.  
Not in an angel-like, Lucifer life way. Just in a you-better-tell-me-how-many-people-did-you-kill-and-precisely-how-so-i-can-plan-the-best-defense-money-can-buy kind of way.  
“How… how was she like? No one really told me.”  
“She was a bringer of life.” He mesmerized, his voice full of devotion. “She was stern and determined. She wasn’t… the biggest fan of Humanity, but she advocated for your race in the beginning.”  
“Did she?”  
“She’s the Goddess of Creation.” He looks at Charlotte as if she was stupid. “She breathed life into all of Father’s molds. You are as much of Her image as His.” He stops, his throat strangled. “And now… She’s not here, anymore.”  
“I’m sorry for you loss.”  
He takes another moment. She looks at him at that moment. There was no helmet on his head, although the remains of his body were hidden by the armor and she could look at his features and try to compare to what she had seen. He was bald, like Amenadiel, but she didn’t think it was by lack of choice. He had a Roman-like nose, but not so much as a beak as Lucifer. His skin was tanned, and his cheekbones were high and defined.  
When a single tear went down on his face, it curled around his bone.  
“This wasn’t the reason why I came to talk to you, actually. Do you mind taking a walk with me?”  
Charlotte agrees, following him to the end of the hall and then through a door, he opens as he waits for her to pass first. She thanks him with a nod.  
“I wanted to know if you have questions.” He starts.  
“I don’t know if I can ask them.” They walk through a corridor filled with fog, the kind that hasn’t yet decided what it will turn to. She thinks she’s seeing old stones, but when she focuses, it could as well as be a parking lot.  
She didn’t know if she could get used to that.  
“Try. The worst thing that can happen is your question go by ignored.” He offered.  
“How’s… everyone? On Earth?” She starts.  
“Your loss is being deeply felt.” He gives a pause to let the words sink in. Her chest aches. “But the living have their way of dealing, and your loved ones are strong in their resolution of staying alive.”  
“And… everyone else? The rest of the people?” She wants to ask about the criminals she had helped. She wanted to ask about the cops she disturbed. He looks at her, but she isn’t sure if he’s seeing her fears on the surface.  
“Or they care, or they do not.” He simply says.  
“Who are you?” She inquires, afraid that she might be stepping too far.  
“I’m Archangel Raphael, but you don’t want to hear that. I was the Goddess Blade. I suppose I still am, in a sense. I will always be. I was also called Goddess Healer.”  
“What a dichotomy.” She slips. Before she can feel mortified, the Archangel chuckles.  
“Two very different stories, I’m afraid. And one of them leads me to you. Can you guess which?”  
It’s now, the sinking feeling came into her. It’s now that he’s going to raise the blade on his waist and send her to Hell, someway or another.  
“The Blade?” Her words were a mere whisper. Charlotte only realizes she closed her eyes when she feels his hand on her shoulder and it makes her jump.  
“No, Charlotte. I’ve been feeling the weight on your shoulders from the moment my brother brought you here, and I’m here to fix that.” He steps away and grabs the flask on his waist. It’s one of those really old ones, with tough glass and cork, the kind of thing you didn’t see every day. He places a drop on his finger and holds his fingertip to her forehead, doing some sort of drawing, before putting the flask away once more. He doesn’t explain why, but proceeds. “You are worthy. You are not an outsider. You belong in the Silver City, and, when the time is right, you will see your loved ones again.”  
She had spent a life full of treachery and lie. She had done so many wrongs compared to her rights, and she didn’t felt like she had lived enough to outdo them.  
But at his words… She believed.  
And The Silver City shifted one last time, into a place she could call home.


End file.
